What Connects Us
by supremegreendragon
Summary: PGxMike. Rated for innuendos and language. When Mike notices that the restaurant is haunted, he decides to befriend the ghost. Bad idea. Sad ending.


You could call it whatever you want. You could call it insanity. You could call it hero complex. You could call it a total disregard for self-preservation. Whatever label you choose, one thing was for certain. Mikey was one brave, dumb motherfucker for staying another week at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.

He strained to hear the sounds outside as his eyes glued to the screen in his hand showing Pirate's Cove. He slammed on the button to close the left door just before one of the robots could sneak inside his office. His heart drummed every time Bonnie pounded on his door. Finally, the rabbit animatronic gave up. Mike checked the camera before opening the door again. He held his breath, mentally preparing himself in case Bonnie turned and came back. Mike only allowed himself a second to relax before checking Pirate's Cove again. Foxy was being nicer than normal. He still hadn't come out yet.

Freddy's chuckling continued well into the night. After what seemed like forever, Mike realized that it was finally six a.m. He had survive another night.

Mike took in large chunks of breath to steady his heartrate. He flashed a victorious grin. These nights were oddly self-meditating for him. For once he felt like his life was worth something. Not only was he the only guard willing to stay overnight, but he was also the best. He knew the ins and outs of how the animatronics worked. Freddy and his gang were no match for his wit.

He was the best guard this company ever had.

Mike chuckled, feeling more accomplished than ever. Things were finally looking up for him.

The security guard went to his locker room to change. He would have a few hours of peace before working the day shift at his favorite burger joint, which paid almost three times as much as here. He would work from 9 to 5 and then have a few hours before coming back to this fright fest.

He was scrounging up his last bit of things when he got the feeling of being watched. He snapped his head around, but no one was there. He checked the portable camera that was still in his hand. The animatronics were back on stage, completely harmless. Mike swallowed thickly. Where was this feeling coming from? Was the stress of the job making him paranoid?

He shook his head. It must've just been his imagination.

"Interesting," a voice murmured. Mike snapped up. He was the only one supposed to be here.

"Who's there?" His flashlight frantically searched for the source of the noise. Nothing was around him.

He knew he heard something. He would be unable to blame his imagination this time. Mike aimed his light at every crevice of darkness.

That voice sounded like it belonged to an adult man instead of a robot. That fact gave Mike a bit of comfort. Maybe some trespasser had snuck into the building just to give him a hard time. This could very well be nothing more than a prank.

Mike wanted to just leave. After this entire night, the last thing he wanted to do was locate some asshole. He considered it until he had a thought. There was a possibility that this guy was dangerous. And besides, even if he wasn't a threat to someone, leaving now would be a surefire way for Mike to get fired.

Straightening his cap, Mike headed out of the locker room. Mike still held onto the camera. The robots were still immobile and all accounted for.

A strange sound forced him to look up. He shone the light ahead of him. Nobody there.

"Who's there? Come out and face me like a man," Mike was getting upset. He wanted to find this guy as quickly as possible. This bullshit was eating away at his miniscule amount of free time.

"Do you want to see little ol me that much? You won't be disappointed, pal. I do have a handsome face."

Ah hah! The voice obviously came from the corner. There was nothing but a dead end back there. Mike prepared himself to corner a trapped rat. He edge closer to it.

"I'm sure your handsome face belongs in jail!" with that, Mike rushed toward the corner and aimed his light.

To his shock, no one was there. What the hell? He was sure that the voice came from here. He shuffled around in a frantic search, but to no avail.

Mike suddenly had a very bad feeling. It was bad enough to be dealing with sentient, killer robots. But now it looked like he had a ghost.

Was this place actually haunted?

Determined not to show his fear, Mike continued to survey the room.

"Where are you?"

"Oh. You sound angry. That's cute," the voice mocked. Mike curled his free hand into a fist.

"Why are you here?"

Mike's question was met with silence. He was about to repeat himself when the voice answered.

"I'm not sure," the voice was right behind him. No one was there, "I can't remember much. I remember...her. I remember what I've done to those children. But my brain is scrambled on everything else."

The voice sounded somber now. But Mike wasn't in the mood to be sympathetic. He punched the wall. What the fuck was with this guy talking in riddles?

Mike forgot all about heading home for a relaxing few hours.

"Enough with the games. Come out and I won't call the cops."

"Do you have any children, Mr. Schmidt?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" Mike barked. The guy had good eyes to be able to read his nametag in the dark.

"...I guess not. You're awfully young," he spoke with appreciation in his voice. Almost sounding like a pedophile complementing his victim for their youth. It filled Mike with disgust.

The security guard lost it at that.

"Come out with your hands up! You're trespassing," he ordered, praying to God that this voice wasn't actually a ghost.

"Oh, Mike. I've done a lot worse than that," the voice was bemused.

"You better come out. Or else I'll-"

"Or you'll what?" the voice challenged in a sing songy voice, "You'll hit me over the head with that flashlight? You must think you're pretty tough to be spending another week here. Tell me, is that why you're staying? To prove that little Mikey can stand up to cuddly robotic animals?"

Mike glowered. That wasn't fair. Nothing about Freddy's gang was considered 'cuddly." And he had a feeling that this voice knew it too.

Out of nervous habit, Mike checked the stage again.

"They won't come even with free roaming mode," the voice stated.

Confused, Mike turned to where he thought the voice might've been coming from.

"They always come after me."

"But they'll stay away from me," the voice argued.

Mike almost didn't believe him. Something about the voice, however, sounded sincere. This made Mike curious. He thought he saw movement from the corner of his eye. But when he turned his flashlight, he found out it was only his reflection bouncing off a framed poster of Freddy.

"You're very interesting to me, Mike," the voice murmured, "I want to talk to you every day. Your my own personal buddy. Aren't you?"

Mike swallowed. He suddenly didn't feel very safe anymore. The one time when Fazbears wasn't dangerous, and he felt threatened.

"You don't have to be afraid of me."

"I'm not," Mike insisted. His voice wasn't even convincing to himself.

"Is that right? That's good. I'd rather you not run away from me before you can escape."

"Is that a threat?"

"Threat?" the voice laughed, "No, Mikey. It's a promise."

"A promise for what?" despite himself, Mike found himself getting more curious.

The voice didn't speak for a while. Then-

"I'd love to keep chatting with you. But I sense that someone's opening up the doors. Sorry, Mikey. We'll have to talk later. It's not my fault that the opening manager's here."

"Wait. What did you mean about what you said?"

"Goodbye for now, Mikey," the voice already sounded like it was drifting away.

"Wait a minute-" Mike was cut off by the lights turning on. The manager came striding in. He paused when he saw that Mike was still in the building. The guard bashfully fumbled for an excuse.

"I dropped my contact," his fingers pressed against each other as if he was actually holding said item.

The manager crossed his arms. Mike took that que to leave as quickly as he could. A few employees were already entering by the time he exited, ready to start baking and cleaning before the early customers arrived.

* * *

Chica's agape mouth showed full sets of teeth while her yellow hand pounding on the window. Mike didn't even scream this time. He moved with such grace that would make an Olympic skater jealous. He could handle anything these animatronics threw at him. It was almost like a game to him now.

He heard Bonnie on the other side. He promptly shut that door, taking a look at the system computer. Now he was getting a little worried. An hour to go on fifteen percent power. Not exactly an ideal situation, but doable.

Freddy's low chuckles prompted him to shut the right door without even looking. It gotten to the point where he was only using the camera to watch for Pirate's Cove. Otherwise he would run out of electricity.

He kept going until he heard the animatronics shuffling outside, signaling that they were heading back to the stage. Mike's guard shirt was soaked with sweat as he looked at the ipad. Three percent power. That was too close for comfort.

Mike sank in his seat to allow his heart to settle down. He spent the next few seconds taking in deep gulps of precious air.

"All tuckered out, little Mikey?"

The security guard sprang out of his chair.

"You don't have to be afraid of me. I would never hurt you."

Mike's flashlight surveyed the room. He gulped down the fear in his voice, "Tell me where you are."

"Mmm. No."

Mike scowled. He winced at how blunt the voice was. It was clear that this guy would continue to mess with him.

Glaring, Mike said, "Then tell me what you want."

"Ah! I like that question a lot better, Mikey," the voice cooed, "All I want is to talk to you. I'm so lonely here by myself and the robots aren't very good company."

It got to the point where Mike was actually crouching down in case the guy was hiding under a desk or something. Still he could find nobody in sight.

Mike stood back up, "Are you saying you're here all the time?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

Mike continued to search for the voice, even though he knew the task would be as fruitless as ever. He decided he would keep the voice talking. That way, maybe there was at least a small chance he could find him.

"Then why did you stop talking to me once the opening manager got here?"

"Because I only want to talk to you. No one else needs to know about me."

"You flatter me," Mike said with a frown. If this guy wasn't going to take him seriously, then he might as well taunt back.

"I flatter you, do I? Does that mean I'm close to getting inside your pants?"

This time Mike was caught off guard.

"Are you hitting on me?"

"What if I am?"

Mike wasn't sure how to feel about this. No one had been so forward with him before. Especially not seemingly disembodied voices. Despite knowing how dangerous this whole ordeal could be, Mike found himself curious. He found himself slightly more inclined to hear this guy out.

It wasn't that he was so shallow that he would listen to anyone who flirted with him. But Mike was a very lonely person. He didn't really even have a friend. And if this guy really was dangerous, he would've hurt him already, right?

Or maybe this guy was waiting for the best time to strike...

Mike frowned and shook his head of the notion.

"Are you alright there, Mikey? You're spacing out."

Mike swallowed thickly.

"I don't..." it took him a second to find his voice, "I don't like men."

"Then why are you so speechless? Is little Mikey lying to himself?"

"Stop calling me little Mikey," the anger returned. At least Mike wasn't so flustered anymore.

"Oh? What are you going to do if I don't? Huh, little Mikey? Are you going to shine that flashlight on me? Oh, I'm so scared."

"You'll be begging on your knees when I find you," Mike said it like a promise.

"What else will I be doing on my knees, Mikey?"

"Save your innuendos for when your in jail, you sicko," Mike went through every corner twice. Why couldn't he find this guy?

Could he be using the intercom? But that didn't make sense considering the guy always sounded like he was right behind him. He checked the clock on the ipad. The opening manager would be here soon. Then he would have to wait until tomorrow to look for this guy again.

He gritted his teeth.

"I'm tired of this game."

"Already? We've barely said anything to each other, Mikey."

"Listen you-"

"Oh. I think someone's opening up the doors. Sorry, Mikey. But it's not my fault that they're eager to make money. Talk to you tomorrow."

"Wait!" Mike didn't know why he screamed. He didn't know why he was so determined to find this guy. It wasn't that he wanted to get this guy in jail anymore. Now something else was driving him to talk to him. Call it needless curiosity.

He waited for the voice to speak again. But the opening manager was already in the room.

* * *

"Schmidt, you're off," said his burger manager.

Mike turned off his cash register and headed out the door feeling just as tired as ever. He swung by the nearest gas station to get himself a large energy drink. He felt the stimulants enter his blood stream as he drove to Fazbear's Pizzeria. He stared up at the building with a slight frown. This used to be a place of happiness for him. When he was a child, the animatronics were his best friends. They were his only friends in fact. Now he knew better.

He downed the drink in a few gulps before going inside. The receptionist looked at him with a quirked eyebrow. Mike fumbled for an excuse.

"I forgot something in the locker room," he handed her his id to prove that he worked here. She typed it in the computer, then handed it to him. She nodded her consent and he smiled gratefully. Like he hoped, the locker room was completely empty. He refused to sit down on the chair, too afraid that he would fall asleep if he did. Even with the energy drink, working 14 hours straight for 5 days straight could sometimes get to you. Especially when six of those hours were spent trying to stay alive.

"Are you...waiting to talk to me?" the voice murmured. He sounded slightly amused, but also slightly touched.

Mike sucked in a breath. It actually worked. He could hear the children screaming for joy off in the distance. It would be a good cover for the voice to hide itself. Which meant that Mike was free to have a conversation.

"Yes."

"What do you want, little Mikey?"

Mike licked his lips. Now was not the time to chicken out.

"I wanted to...talk to you."

"Oh Mikey," the voice was immensely pleased, "You make me so happy to hear that. You're even more interesting than I thought you were. So...what do you want to talk about?"

"I want to know your name."

There was a short pause.

"Oh? I'd liiiiike to tell you. But I don't think you deserve it."

"What?"

"Get on your knees and beg for my name."

Mike's face warmed with anger, "Forget it."

"Then I guess you'll never know."

"That's fine," Mike smirked, "I'll just call you Dumbass."

Instead of being insulted, the voice chuckled.

"Very interesting."

"Is there anything else you can say about me, Dumbass?" Mike asked.

"Are you fishing for compliments?"

Mike was stunned into silence. He didn't think he said anything to warrant that accusation. Dumbass chuckled to himself again. Mike wouldn't mind hearing that laughter everyday.

He paused when he realized what he had just thought. Where did that notion come from?

"You could just ask me, Mikey. I have tons to mention about you. You got a great ass."

"Okay, that's enough," but unfortunately for Mike, the voice was just getting started.

"It makes you look pretty good when you're walking. And your face is pretty handsome. It makes it nice to look at during the night. And your lips are very luscious. It makes me hot imagining them around-"

"Okay, let's talk about something else."

"Wow, you're bossy," Dumbass chuckled. Mike searched around the room to see if it really was coming from an intercom. He finally admitted to himself that this really was a disembodied voice.

"Are you a ghost?"

Silence again, this time lasting a lot longer than before. Mike waited with bated breath for the voice to respond. Every second of silence was almost unbearable. Mike almost wished he hadn't asked. He wasn't sure he would like the answer.

"No idea," the voice laughed.

Mike blinked. His cheeks burned in humiliation. Dumbass just wasn't taking this conversation seriously, so Mike was embarrassed to have been so earnest. He rubbed his sore temples.

"By the way," the voice continued, "You look sleep deprived. When do you go to bed?"

"Usually around this time," Mike informed.

"You mean Sleeping Beauty woke up just to talk to me?"

"Yeah. But I don't know what I was expecting," Mike hopped out of his seat, "I'm going to go."

"Wait a minute. You can't do that to me," the voice said.

"Watch me."

"Wait, Mike."

The guard stopped just before he left the room.

"What can I do to make you stay?" for the first time, the voice sounded serious. It gave Mike pause. The guard took a moment to think.

"You'll be with me while I'm working the night shift?"

"What? That's all you want? Certainly, Mikey. I can do that. Now sit down and get yourself a soda. And then tell me about your day."

"Yeah, no. That vending machine has the most ridiculous prices that I have ever seen. And I'm not about to spend my hard earned cash on a soft drink."

Despite himself, Mike smiled, happy that Dumbass was at least trying to keep him around. There had not been too many people in Mike's life that cared whether or not he stuck around.

Mike went back to his chair while the voice continued to speak.

"You should consider checking the vending machine for freebees. That happens sometimes."

Mike's smile turned into a scoff.

"That doesn't exactly happen often enough to bother checking."

"Trust me."

Confused, Mike stood up from his chair. He reached his hand inside the machine. To his surprise, it touched something metallic and very cold. He pulled out a sugar-filled soda. Mike could barely process what was going on.

"Told you."

* * *

As the weeks passed on, Dumbass became Mike's best and only friend. It got to the point where he gave him a better nickname. He started calling the voice Will. Will was the name of a friend Mike had when he was just a child, so it seemed like the best title to give him.

For whatever reason, Will was still reluctant to tell him his real name. However at this point, Mike didn't care. Mike spent most of his sleeping time talking to Will and then using the small amount of freedom he had between jobs to get a wink in. Still, it was starting to take its toll. Even as Mike entered his security job with a large energy drink, he felt himself fading.

The animatronics did their normal thing. Mike pretty much memorized all their movements, making it a lot easier to know when to throw the doors down. Mike had trouble even feeling an ounce of concern for his job anymore.

His eyes went droopy. He shook his head awake and immediately berated himself. Just because he felt safer didn't mean that this job was no longer a threat. This would be the absolute worst moment to sneak in some z's.

He heard Freddy's chuckling. He closed the door. He saw Bonnie outside. He closed the door. Mike looked at the clock that read three in the morning.

When he looked at the clock again, he could've sworn it jumped. How was it eight o' nine? Mike looked down at himself. His entire weight sank into his chair. His ears weren't ringing as much as before when he was completely sleep deprived. It only took a few seconds for Mike to realize that he had somehow fallen asleep on the job.

And he had somehow survived the night.

Mike had to feel his own pulse just to check. It was true. He was still alive. The guard left the work area to see if there was still a free cola in the vending machine. Will had been enabling him to get a free one every time he finished work.

The manager saw him and crossed his arms.

"I noticed you sleeping on the job."

Mike froze. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. The manager bore his eyes into Mike's own.

"I don't know why bother working overnight if you can't handle it. Mark my words, Mr. Schmidt. I'll tell my superiors that I found you snoozing."

Mike realized that the opening manager had no idea about the animatronics' free roaming mode. Otherwise, the manager would've demanded to know how he survived the night. Mike was grateful that he wasn't going to get that question.

* * *

At least...that was what he thought. Mike got a call from the head of Freddy Fazbear's himself. When Mike was called into his office, the question was the first thing to come out of his mouth.

"I don't know. I guess I got lucky," Mike admitted.

"Do you know when you fell asleep?"

"I think...three."

The owner stared at him for the longest moment, as if trying to judge him for his honesty. Finally, he stood up. Bringing his hands behind his back, the owner looked outside. Finally, he turned to Mike.

"Do you know why we pay our guards so little?"

Mike knew better than to try to answer. The owner hadn't been waiting for a response anyway.

"I don't have to tell you that Freddy and his gang bring in a lot of money," the owner continued, "But even they can't afford to fix all of our...mistakes. Whenever someone dies, we need to do everything in our power to keep things quiet. The reputation of our establishment is at stake every time the robots take another life. It's costly to keep our secret."

Mike frowned, yet he was too much of a coward to speak against his boss. Nothing the owner said was news to him. Mike already puzzled out how little his life mattered to the company as a whole. But what Mike couldn't figure out was why the owner bothered to tell him any of this.

The owner turned to him. His expression was very thoughtful.

"But even after going through all of that, it's a pain to find someone willing to take the job. We can't afford to pay our security guards anymore money. But it's that same paycheck that's preventing new employees from showing up."

Mike wanted to rub his eyes or scratch his nose or something. But he held himself very still, fearful to make the slightest movement.

The owner said, "But now we have you. I don't know why, but the animatronics do not want to kill you. I don't care to know the reason. All I know is that you're the answer to our prayers. I would like to consider giving you a raise."

Mike's ears perked up at this.

"A raise? Really?"

"Yes. And to make sure you don't even think about going somewhere else for a job, I think I have a number in mind."

Mike wasn't sure how to respond to that.

* * *

"There you are, Mikey. Did you have a nice nap?" the voice asked. Mike sat down in his usual spot before looking up to where he could only guess where the voice was coming from.

"Will, how did you do it?"

"Do what, little Mikey?" Will sang. The pet name no longer bothered the security guard.

"How do you keep the robots away? You're right. They are afraid of you. I would've been dead if you hadn't saved me. But why are they so afraid of you?"

Will was silent. For a moment nothing could be heard save from the tickling clock on the wall. The sudden silence didn't confuse Mike. There were times when even Will could be serious.

"I guess they don't like me. What can I say?"

"Will, they gave me a raise."

"...Hmm?" Will sounded lazy. It was almost like he was the one half asleep this time.

"And it's thanks to you. They're paying me so much more now. I..." Mike smiled under his hat, "I actually don't need to work two jobs anymore."

"That's good. Then you'll get rid of the other one, right?"

Mike paused. He didn't say that. And why was Will so inclined for him to do so anyway? Before he could ask the question, Will was already explaining himself.

"You fell asleep because you're overworking yourself. And it's not as fun talking to you when you're practically a zombie. You should get rid of your day job. That way you'll be more alert to talk with me."

Mike noticed how Will put much more emphasis on how staying awake would satisfy him than on Mike's wellbeing. It also insulted Mike on how Will's suggestion was more of a command.

On the other hand, Will helped him out a lot. Mike smiled.

"I guess you're right. Thank you."

"Of course I'm right Mikey," the voice chuckled, "It's Vincent, by the way."

"Huh?"

"My name is Vincent. At least, I'm pretty sure that's what it is."

The voice chuckled some more. The sound touched Mike's heart.

* * *

Mike finished another day at his security job. He rubbed his eyes.

"How are you still tired? You've gotten rid of your day job, didn't you?" Vincent asked.

The security guard looked up at the ceiling. He could only imagine what Vincent's face looked like.

"Yeah. But I started taking some classes."

"Classes? They better be teaching you how to blow."

"You wish," Mike chuckled. Vincent's dirty talk didn't bother him anymore, "I'm taking some classes at the nearby campus. I can afford to get my degree now."

"...Degree?" Vincent didn't sound as pleased as Mike thought he'd be. But the guard shrugged it off.

"Yeah. I didn't go to college since I couldn't afford it. My parents weren't willing to help and I was afraid of getting myself into too much debt," Mike frowned as he thought about his past. He perked up, "But now I can afford to take a couple of classes every semester. I figure if I plan it right, I can get an engineering degree in about five years."

"Why?"

Mike nearly stumbled out of his chair. He had been in the process of standing up in order to get himself a snack out of the vending machine. But when Vincent spoke, he had such a distraught voice that it caught Mike off guard.

 _Why?_ When Vincent asked that question, it sounded like a child's whose dreams were crushed.

Mike held onto the back of his chair while he stared up at the ceiling. He struggled to find the words.

"Um...did I say something wrong, Vin?"

"Why are you getting a degree?" this time the voice was hard. Demanding even.

Mike's grip on the chair tightened.

"Well. I always wanted one. I thought I could make something of myself."

"But you have this job. It's paying you enough."

Mike glared at how unsupportive his only friend was being.

"Don't you get it? This place is terrible. It doesn't matter how much they pay me. All I'm doing here is sleeping while you keep the robots away. And I want to do more with my life than that," Mike felt like a dam that had just burst with confessions, "I want to be important."

The voice stayed silent. Mike waited for Vincent to respond...

And waited...

And waited...

Mike sighed. Vincent was giving him the silent treatment. Mike rubbed his temples before heading out the door. The silence stretched on even after he left the building.

* * *

The animatronics continued to stay clear of Mike's room. However it had been three hours and Vincent hadn't said a word. Mike sat in his chair while thumbing through his engineering book. The test wouldn't be for a few weeks. But at least it gave him something to do.

"Mike."

The guard breathed out a sigh of relief and then smiled. Finally.

"Hey, Vincent," he greeted.

"I want to show you something. Can you head outside, please?"

Mike paused. He looked at the camera. The robots wandered around, yet they weren't directly outside the office. Still, the idea of going outside the electronic doors was unnerving to say the least.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

The voice responded with, "Please trust me. I won't let you get hurt."

Touched, Mike shut the book closed. Vincent was being unusually nice and polite. He even sounded apologetic. Mike had no doubt that Vincent was trying to make amends. The least Mike could do was do as he asked.

The guard took his flashlight and went out the door. His heart pounded inside his ears the moment he stepped outside. Just like Vincent said, the robots stayed away.

"What do you want to show me?"

"Look at the poster."

Confused, Mike did so. It was that same Freddy poster from before. It didn't look any different. He could still see his reflection bouncing off from the light of his torch.

He paused. Suddenly the image staring back at him starting to turn purple. The reflection morphed until there was a large smile on the reflection's face.

Horrified, Mike stumbled back. That smile was wrong. That smile was...evil.

"It's me," the reflection said in Vincent's voice.

Mike couldn't find his voice. He couldn't move. All his senses were on high alert, telling him to run away. Yet his feet remained glued to the floor.

The ghost shrugged.

"I wanted to show you what I look like. Do you like it?"

Mike was silent. The purple guy (was it really Vincent?) chuckled. This time the laughter was a lot darker than before.

"When you told me that you were going to get a degree, I knew what that really meant. You planned on leaving this job, didn't you Mikey? You planned on leaving me, didn't you Mikey?"

The ghost became increasingly angrier.

"Didn't you?" Vincent yelled. The voice echoed through every inch of wall. It was as if the entire building spoke.

Mike backed away a few more steps. Vincent chuckled again.

"I don't remember much. But I remember that I lost someone really important to me. I don't remember her name. Or face. But she was important. And then she was gone. Do you understand, Mike?"

He looked at the fear stricken human.

"You were just interesting before. That was all," Vincent explained, "But then as we became friends, you became something else. You became...important. And I will not lose another important thing again."

"...What are you saying?" Mike asked. He was so terrified that his voice was barely a whisper. Vincent still heard it.

"I'm going to make you mine. I'm going to make sure you don't leave. Don't worry, Mike. I'll make it quick. It won't hurt."

The guard sprinted in the other direction. He didn't even care that the robots were out there anymore. He ran as fast as he could toward the exit.

He gulped. The exit was just a few feet away. Just a few more steps...

Something came in front of him. All he saw was a blur of purple. He felt incredible pain. Then he blacked out.

* * *

After Mike died, the owner noticed that the robots were even more restless than before. He typed into his highly advanced computer.

It was strange. He used to see traces of purple in the light every so often. The owner had no idea what it was, but he didn't put too much thought into it. But ever since Mike's death, a blue light started to appear too.

And if the owner didn't know any better, it looked like the blue and purple lights were always together. Like lovers. Sometimes the blue wandered away. Was it the owner's imagination, or was the blue always trying to head toward the exit? The purple would seem to block the blue before it could get out. The owner shook his head. What was he thinking? Lights weren't sentient. He smiled when he read his e-mail. They found that another guard. He sighed in relief. Well, it was back to four dollars an hour then.

* * *

 **A/N: I like this pairing. But I had to really stretch my imagination to see how it would work. I'm not sure how to feel about this fic. Constructive criticism is always welcomed.**


End file.
